Anger's Place
by the-throwaway-account
Summary: A reunion and a lesson. No one holds a grudge like Sirius Black. After not speaking to Remus for years, the werewolf reaches out and they agree to meet in a park one autumn day. Takes place in an AU where Peter was a Slytherin and James and Lily pass away before having children. An exercise/experiment that's basically a closing scene. The reader decides what led up to this point.


Sirius could scarcely believe the person before him was only 23 years old. He could hardly fathom that he was looking, in this moment, at his past schoolmate and former close friend, Remus Lupin.

The eyes resting in his gaunt face gazed out blearily, dulled with pain and weariness. This alone was startling to the animagus, as the werewolf's eyes were normally alight from within even just before and after the full moon. Usually a spark of fighting spirit charged their green color with vital energy, but now his entire presence conveyed resignation, defeat.

Still, it took a moment for the most disturbing realization to fall into place in Sirius' mind— that on this date the moon was nearly new. Remus should have been in prime condition at this time.

"You're ill," he said dumbly, slightly sickened by the flat tone of his voice. Shouldn't he be feeling more than he was?

"Yes," Remus said simply. "It's terminal."

Black was about to speak again, but Lupin silenced him with one raised hand. Seeming to anticipate the offer of money or some other means of assistance, he said,

"It's not for lack of trying, trust me. Dumbledore— he's been seeing that I pursue all manner of remedy. Magic, muggle, homeopathic, experimental. It seems a long life is simply not meant for me. Honestly, I can't say I'm all that surprised."

He swayed slightly, stepping backwards and collapsing back unto the bench he had risen from. The awkward movement was painfully far removed from the werewolf's usual poise.

 _I can't handle this. James should be here, not me._ Sirius thought, mind reeling and wishing for a way out.

Still, he sat down next to his childhood friend, trying to process the way the lycanthrope seemed to age so much in only a few years.

"There are some things I'd like to explain," Remus said, voice laced with solemnity. Sirius nodded curtly.

"There are... blank spaces, in my head," he said. "The potion that's kept me alive this long has unpredictable effects on one's mind. At first the lapses in memory didn't bother me— I felt relatively sane, and I was grateful. But then I couldn't remember the sorting ceremony at school. I couldn't remember my own House. I had to look in my closet for my old scarf.

"I stopped the potion after that. I couldn't bear to lose those years. I'd rather die with them intact. I was never... never happier."

The weight of these words settled on Sirius' chest, constricting his breath. He suddenly felt like a damned fool. He suddenly realized how much time had been wasted.

Lupin's ashen hands were trembling, and Sirius grasped one.

"I know," the werewolf said, swallowing. "I know you hate me, but for the life of me I can't recall why. I only know I deserve it. The guilt is so engrained it was untouched by the potion."

He suddenly pulled away from Black's hand and put some distance between them, turning to meet the pureblood's eyes.

"Please, don't remind me."

"I won't," Sirius said quickly, finding himself eager to provide at least this small respite in a life that had clearly spiraled out of control and harshly downward since their last meeting.

Sighing, Sirius continued, "Sometimes I feel as if I've forgotten as well."

A light wind mussed Lupin's newly silvered hair, now longer than he'd ever worn it. A weak smile settled on his face, but it slipped away as the cool breeze died.

"I'm not asking your forgiveness," he said. "I only ask your presence, just for a little while. I'm alone, and I'm cold." His tone gradually became more urgent. "I'm alone and cold and I can't —"

Sirius interrupted him as, in a single, swift motion he moved closer and wrapped his arm around Remus, who crumbled into his arms. One arm wrapped around the pureblood's neck, the other softly gripping the front of his shirt.

Black embraced him fully as the werewolf repeated, "I can't. I can't."

The words came forth like a stutter, automatic and unintentional. He gulped for air. Sirius shushed him gently.

"I'm here. I'm right here. Focus on breathing."

A few moments passed, a few shuddering breaths, but thankfully no tears.

"I'm so sorry." Lupin said. "I'm done fighting. I'm so tired, Padfoot."

It was upon hearing this name for the first time since before James' death, that Sirius felt the last of his anger finally die away.

"Moony," Black murmured. "I know you're not asking, but you have my forgiveness all the same."

Remus didn't respond except to slump more heavily into the arms of the pureblood.

"Moony," Sirius said sharply.

Remus' limp arm fell away from his friend's shoulder, knuckles making contact with the bench wood with a quiet knocking sound.


End file.
